


I Taste You On My Tongue

by Watabi12



Series: You're A doll//You Are Flawless [1]
Category: Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breathplay, Choking, Collars, Come Facial, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Humiliation, Kissing, M/M, Ownership, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Teasing, romantic undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-24 01:58:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19713979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watabi12/pseuds/Watabi12
Summary: AU where Taron is a stripper and Richard is an art photography CEO.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. In case you missed the tags, this is very sub/dom orientated and BDSM to come (no pun intended) if this is not what you're about - please click away. Thanks for reading! Comments always appreciated.

Taron didn't really like weddings. Sure, he was happy that his mates were tying the knot - but really he just wanted to be at home in some worn out grey trackies that he could feel comfortable in rather than sporting a suit. He was sitting at a table on his own with only a glass of prosecco for company but he didn't mind that. He didn't know half the people here and he really had no interest in most of the girls; not that he wouldn't - but none here took his fancy. He thought there might be a few fit blokes knocking around but it seemed like they were all straight or too far in the closet to give off any vibes. Taron was watching his mate and his new wife and a few others dance. It had been a long day. He liked keeping to himself. People did nothing but ask questions and annoy him. Taron generally had an optimistic outlook on life; on humans, but that didn’t mean they needed to chat to him. There was no easy way to answer the general questions like ‘are you seeing anyone?’ or ‘what do you do for a living?’ because the answers made people fall silent. _No, I’m stripper – that tends to put people off. Well, I’m a stripper actually – in a club near Soho. It’s good, easy money. Unsociable hours but – I enjoy it._

To him, of course, it was like any other job he’d ever had – he checked in, did it and checked out. He might as well be saying: _I work for a boring company in Westminster, dreadfully dull – we all wear suits and have to bring in our own birthday cakes_. However, other people didn’t often see it like that – there would be a mirage of follow-up questions that Taron felt were very rude and invasive but was always too awkward not to answer and then he’d be known the whole night as ‘the stripper’ rather than Taron, 29, loves dogs, visits his mum every Sunday for roast, reads a lot in his spare time. That’s just how it was and why he’d started lying or not talking at all. He wasn’t on shift until tomorrow night and so, he thought he’d sack the wedding off after the reception – it was only 5pm – and go home; make the most of his night off – there was a book and a Ben and Jerrys with his name on it. He sipped at his prosecco. The DJ had just changed songs to _Love Is The Drug_ by Roxy music. Taron nodded his head in agreement. An absolute classic. Suddenly, a voice dragged him out of his thoughts.

'Care for a photo?'

Taron turned. _Oh God_. Richard was smiling a fucking shit eating grin at him. Taron filled with anxiety. _What the fuck was this man doing here?_ Taron let himself look at the man’s plump, pillow lips – after all he wasn’t hustling now – his soft, umber brown hair slicked back; white streak at the front blending in coolly, looking perfect as did his eyes, his steel jaw and his collarbones: peeking out from under his polo shirt. Taron really didn’t want him here. The first and last time he’d seen him was on a sofa in a backroom and he had no intention of anyone finding out. So he ignored the flick of lust that spiralled in his stomach; from the moment he set eyes on him, all he wanted was for him to push him up against something hard and fuck him as roughly as he could.

'No, not from you,’ Taron said.

'What are you doing here?' Richard smirked. Taron didn’t let the tough Scottish accent get under his skin but fuck, the way the words trickled off this man’s tongue – it was intoxicating.

Taron pouted. 'What are you?' he snapped.

Richard held up his camera. 'I'm the photographer.'

'Oh,' Taron sighed. 'I'm good mates with Simon.'

Richard nodded. Taron let himself indulge in how the man's lips moved and the strength in his hands; would probably feel really hot around his wrists or his neck. 'I see.'

'Look,' Taron said through gritted teeth. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. 'Nobody here knows about that so can you not say anything to anyone?'

Richard looked very serious for a second. 'Of course. I would never.'

Taron breathed a slight sigh of relief. Taron gulped his drink. Richard watched him, eyebrows slightly raised. Taron never placed his trust in clients, he wasn’t sure how much people that paid to see others take their clothes off could be trusted but it wasn’t like he had much choice.

'Can I get you another?' Richard asked, with a devilishly tempting expression. ‘What’s your poison?’

****

Taron had been dancing on the stage for a while. He never really paid that much attention to who was watching unless they looked like they had a lot of money or actively engaged with him first. He was wearing nothing but golden hot pants, white socks, some retro platforms. Part of his act was that he could scale a pole in them; he could dance in them, he could cartwheel in them; they weren’t that hard to work in once he used to it, and, of course, they looked great. He was pulled to the side suddenly by the manager. Apparently, someone had requested a private show in a backroom. Taron grinned. Private shows were actually his favourite aspect of the job. He got to show off and give someone what they wanted; it made him feel sexy unlike when a whole room full of people are watching you from afar whilst other equally naked people move next to you. As long as security was good, private shows were the best section of his night; he lived to get a request every shift.

The procedure was simple. There was a £1000 upfront fee then the rest inside the room was the performer’s to keep. The owner of the club was an ex-stripper so she was fair to them. Usually, Taron did what he did onstage but better, sometimes using a table or the client’s lap. Clients were pretty good at saying what they wanted and Taron was pretty good at giving it to them; as long as they didn’t do more than touch his hips, thighs and bum or try anything. Taron was a stripper, not a prostitute and some people didn’t seem to know the difference. More probably, they didn’t care. Taron quickly went to his locker to grab a vest and put it on, still walking to the correct room. He knocked on the door.

Taron walked into the room, confidently. He always hoped it was someone nice looking, though most of the time it wasn’t. He was met with a young-ish man in a suit, smiling at him. This man was not only nice looking but shit hot. Fuck. Tonight was his lucky night. The man stood up and smiled. Taron walked quicker to greet him, stopping behind the coffee table which gave them a bit of distance. The man looked sort of nervous and he awkwardly stuck out his hand like they were at a business meeting. Taron didn’t want to make him feel more uneased so he shook it calmly, folding his lips up in a friendly smile. ‘Hey, it’s nice to meet you. I saw you dancing out there. You were great,’ the man said. ‘I’m Richard, by the way. Rich is fine too. Or Rick if you want.’

‘Hey Rich. I’m Freddie,’ Taron replied. He never gave out his real name to clients. It was better to stay as untraceable as possible. ‘Nice to meet you too. And thanks. I appreciate that.’

Richard cleared his throat and sat back on the couch. He sat right back, sitting on his hands. Taron leaned forward to grab the stereo remote. Lana Del Rey blasted through the speakers. He guessed that was appropriate – seeing as half her songs were about being a sugar baby.

‘Is there any particular thing you paid for or…?’ Taron asked.

‘No, not really. Why don’t you just give me a dance and if I feel like I want to – I’ll ask for it?’

‘Sure,’ Taron smiled. He took a few steps back. He started to move his hips in time with the music. There was another table up against the wall. He stepped back towards it, placing his hands on it and bending over, letting Richard get a good view of his arse. He heard Richard shuffle which made him burn a little.

‘I’d like you to stay like that for a minute. Call it 500?’ Richard said suddenly through the silence.

‘Sure,’ Taron nodded.

‘Arch your back more and I’ll make it 1000.’

‘That’s really not necessary.’

When Richard didn’t reply, Taron placed his hands firmly on the edge of the table and arched his back, his arse more present than before. He let his mind drift to things – what he might do tomorrow if he wakes up early enough. A few minutes later, when Taron muscles were starting to struggle, Richard finally spoke again.

‘You can stop now,’ Richard muttered. Taron didn’t say anything. He just stood up straight, stretching his back and tore his vest up over his head then he pooled the vest around his wrists and crossed them behind his back until it looked like the material was holding them there. He turned suddenly. Richard was more undone than he remembered. His face was red, his breathing strained, his top few buttons were undone. Taron had quite a few clients jack off in front of him; it was a weekly occurrence for him and he honestly didn’t mind. Taron continued, undoing the maze and throwing the vest at Richard. He walked forward and kept dancing. He rubbed his hands delicately over his bare chest and down over his hips to the inside of his thighs. He pinched the fat there. He pulled his back up to press over his groin. Richard breathed out loudly and Taron let himself look up, clearly the man was enjoying the show. Taron walked forward and dropped his shorts down right in front of him.

‘Is it okay if I -?’ Taron asked, his voice rusty.

‘Please do,’ Richard breathed. The man look positively _high_. Taron didn’t really feel much about being naked in front of people so he just carried on. Something inside him was burning that this hot man was so turned on but it would be embarrassing for him to get hard on the job.

Taron worked over his lap, grinding down into him. Taron looked at him, he could feel his heartbeat through his shirt.

‘Turn around. I’ll make it worth 500,’ Richard smiled.

Taron pouted. He didn’t like it when people _threw_ money at him – it made him feel too bought. He turned around letting the man get a good view of his arse and the man brought his hand up.

‘May I?’

‘Sure,’ Taron replied.

Taron felt the man slide his hand along his cheek and land a spank there. Taron grunted slightly, having been taken by surprise. Richard laughed; he was hard, Taron could feel that through the man’s slacks.

‘You’re so hot, you know,’ Richard exclaimed.

‘Thanks,’ Taron sighed. He missed out the bit where he said _so are you fuck me._

***

Taron sat at the table, two drinks in. Richard was talking about something to do with being a wedding photographer.

‘So you like weddings then?’

‘Yes, I do. Must be the romantic in me,’ Richard said lightly.

‘Have you ever walked down the aisle yourself?’

‘No, no, I’m afraid not.’ Richard looked away and shuffled. ‘Married to the job and I think my cat would probably like a look in too.’

‘You have a cat?’ Taron asked. He thought this was the kind of man to have a bachelor pad.

‘Yes, I love her a lot. She’s very clingy though. Won’t sleep unless she’s in with me.’ Taron nodded, thinking that the cat had it right. He’d probably feel the same if Richard was his. ‘Do you – were you planning on staying until the end? Do you have someone to go back to?’

‘No, what I do tends to put people off. It’s not often I get to have a night off. I was going to go home and catch up on some reading.’

‘Reading? Of what?’ Richard mocked.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Taron pouted. He was a stripper. Not stupid.

‘Nothing. I just thought – you’d have less tame interests.’

‘Who says I don’t?’ Taron teased.

Richard smiled. ‘What book?’

‘Don’t mock me,’ Taron said, accusingly.

Richard put up his hands in defence. ‘Cross my heart.’

‘Call Me By Your Name. It’s actually pretty good.’

‘Why would I mock that? The film was excellent,’ Richard mused.

Taron drank the last of his cocktail. ‘I don’t know. It’s teen fiction.’

‘Barely.’

‘So how about you? Are you staying?’

‘I think I have to, really,’ Richard sighed. ‘Which is a shame because I was hoping to ask you to come back with me.’

Taron freeze. He looked up at Richard who was smirking sinfully, eyes smouldering. His mouth went instantly dry and his heart thumped. He tapped his thumb against the placemat on the table. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Deadly,’ Richard whispered playfully, pulling his face closer to Taron’s.

‘Fuck,’ Taron cursed. ‘My real name’s Taron, not Freddie.’

‘I know.’

‘What? How?’

‘It says it on your table tag,’ Richard shrugged. Taron looked to the bit of plastic with his name on it.

‘Glad you’re not a stalker, at least,’ Taron joked.

Richard let out a chuckle. He placed his hand on Taron’s thigh making Taron tense. Richard brought his mouth to Taron’s ear. ‘I’ll be whatever you want me to be, sweetcheeks.’

Taron was wrecked from that, alone. ‘Oh shit,’ Taron gasped.

Richard snapped a photo of him. ‘You looked like a dream just then.’ And before Taron could respond, ‘Will you wait for me?’

‘Yes. Yeah. I can – I can wait,’ Taron fumbled.

‘Good,’ Richard said. He stood up and Taron deflated a little at the loss of contact. Taron stood up too and leant in to kiss Richard; Richard reciprocated – grabbing onto Taron’s jaw, forcing his way in and kissing Taron roughly. ‘Good,’ Richard panted. ‘Good boy.’


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments always appreciated. Might write a follow up if I have interest and time!

Taron didn’t really know what happened but after waiting nearly three hours, Richard finally decided to leave and as soon as they left the building something flicked on between both of them. Richard was kissing Taron up against the side of his car, pinning both his wrists to the cool metal of a crisp Autumn night. ‘Is this okay?’ Richard gasped.

‘Yes, fuck,’ Taron replied. Honestly, that’s all he could get out. Richard pulled back, breathing harshly. Taron saw himself in the reflection of the window. He already looked wrecked.

‘Get in the car,’ Richard growled. Taron easily complied, slipping into Richard’s black BMW. The radio switched on, it was some generic station. The wedding was just outside London. Taron was going to get a train back to London, actually but he guessed he wasn’t now. ‘I have a hotel room booked. I’ve already checked in so…’ Richard informed him.

‘Oh right,’ Taron nodded.

‘So how do you want to do this?’ Richard asked. He glanced from the road to Taron with a reassuring smile.

‘I’ll draw you a plan, shall I?’ Taron retorted.

‘Don’t be a brat. I want to know,’ Richard said. His voice was soft and light but Taron saw how his hands gripped to the steering wheel.

‘I don’t know – my boundaries are pretty – far out.’

‘Why don’t you just tell me what you like and we’ll see if we have any common ground?’ Taron breathed in and out. ‘No judgement,’ Richard added.

‘I mean as long as you don’t try to use me as a loo, I’m fine.’ Richard laughed. ‘But I guess – I think to submit and I like to be _made_ to submit.’ Taron paused to see if Richard was going to intercept but he remained silent, face blank. ‘Choking, pinning, restraining, being humiliated, being owned…’

Richard smirked. ‘Oh, we definitely have some common ground,’ he said huskily. ‘Do you have a safe word?’

‘Yeah, it’s magazine,’ Taron said.

Richard nodded. ‘Mine’s fishing… Are you familiar with the traffic light system?’

‘Yes,’ Taron responded.

Richard glanced over to him. ‘Good,’ he cooed.

There was a soft, lingering silence between them. Taron could already feel so much tension and heat in his body. Everything within him was crying out to be broken in and fucked. He had to focus on the street lights and AC of the car to prevent himself from shaking with wanton desire.

Richard pulled into the hotel car park. The two of them walked into the lobby and Richard let Taron walk in front to the lifts. As soon as one opened, they both stepped into it and the door closed before anyone else came. They were standing side by side. Taron’s heart pumped. Without even looking at him, Richard leant out his hand and placed it tightly on Taron’s bum. Taron balled his hands into fists but remained silent. Richard smiled.

The door pinged open. Taron went to walk out and Richard suddenly grabbed the back of his neck. Taron let out a confused and struggling noise from deep within him. He couldn’t turn to see what Richard’s intent was. He counted in his head, trying not to focus on the tight fingertips against him or he knew the game would be completely over for him. Richard relented after 4 seconds and pressed on the door buttons as the lift tried to close on them. Taron was hesitant but he walked out again, this time Richard was beside him. Richard produced the key from his jacket pocket and looked for his number. They walked slightly along the corridor and Richard found his room. He opened the door, putting out a hand to let Taron in first. As soon as the door shut behind Richard, the air between them evolved into electricity. Taron turned to find Richard with a stern expression on his face.

‘Are you mine tonight?’ Richard asked. ‘All mine. Only mine.’

‘Yes,’ Taron breathed.

‘From now on, you address me as sir. Do you understand?’ Richard snapped. He moved forward, placed his hand gently on Taron’s cheek, grazing over it with the backs of his fingers.

‘Yes, sir,’ Taron swallowed. Taron wanted to feel the man’s strong grip choking him so badly that he was almost about to beg there and then. ‘Wh- what was that about a minute ago?’

‘Just wanted to see how you’d react. Felt like watching you squirm,’ Richard smirked hotly. Taron felt the air completely dissipate from his lungs. _Oh god._

‘I want you to strip and then I want you to go over there on your hands and knees and look in that drawer.’ Richard went to sit on the bed, slipping his jacket and shoes off. Taron turned to see a small chest of drawers and Richard seemed to be pointing to the top drawer. Taron had a habit of stripping performatively, slowly – call it an occupational hazard. He shrugged his jacket off and then slowly, teasingly untucked his shirt. ‘Quickly,’ Richard added.

Taron changed tact, almost ripping the shirt off his back. He unfastened his trousers as quickly as he could, dropping them with his boxers. His dick was hard. His stomach was clenched with desire. He was already so tied up and knotted in Richard’s eyes, his touches and dark tones that there was no way he’d escape on his own. He was on the floor before he’d processed it, Richard’s words were flowing deep under his skin. The floor was carpeted but kind of gross. Even though the hotel was really nice, Taron still felt dirty thinking about how many people must have done god knows what in the exact spot he was now crawling naked across. He shivered. He pandered across the room to the drawer and knelt up, opening the top slide. ‘Take out whatever interests you,’ Richard ordered. Taron gasped at the contents. It appeared to be a treasure trove of indecency. Taron pulled out a metal plug and felt along it, letting his fingertips grow cold.

‘You ever been plugged?’ Richard asked.

‘Yes,’ Taron breathed. ‘Not – not very often though.’

‘Did you like it?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Taron said. He placed it back into the drawer because it was something that relied on a slow burn approach and he simply wasn’t going to last that long. There were all sorts in there; restraints, a couple of dildos, clamps – everything black or lifeless metal. Taron’s head spun. It was cruel to get him to choose. He brought out a collar and turned around to find Richard watching him intently. He turned back – he pulled out rope, a paddle and a bottle of lube. The paddle was black with a crimson hearts imprinted into it. Taron’s head scorned him, he wasn’t in a job where bruises and marks could be hidden easily but he brushed it off – he really didn’t give a fuck; let people see what he’d let Richard do to him.

Taron forgot himself for a second and stood up, carrying the items. Richard clenched his jaw. ‘What should I call you?’ he said softly. This shook Taron out of the world they’d put themselves into a little.

‘What?’ Taron blinked.

‘What should I call you? Baby? Slut? Whore?’

‘Oh,’ Taron gasped. ‘Um. Fuck, I – don’t know. All three but. Baby,’ Taron panted.

Richard chuckled. ‘All three? You weren’t kidding earlier when you said you wanted to be humiliated.’ Taron whined lightly in response. ‘Baby, did I say you could stand?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Well then,’ Richard pouted, raising his eyebrows. Taron sunk back to the floor, almost dropping everything he was carrying. He placed it all on the floor and Richard watched with a bemused grin as Taron tried to work out how to crawl and carry. Taron eventually decided to cling onto his collar with his teeth and waddle along with the other two in hands. He struggled towards the bed and waited. Richard brought a hand down to stroke gently through Taron’s hair. ‘Good boy,’ he uttered softly. He took the collar from Taron’s mouth and set it on the bed. Taron followed his lead, standing up and dropping the others down. He walked around to the other side and clambered on next to Richard. _So close._ He could hear his own messy breathing into the silence of the room. Richard turned to him. He ran his thumb over Taron’s lips and he instinctively opened his mouth, letting him push in onto his tongue. Taron shuffled closer and Richard removed it. Taron pressed their noses together, almost affectionately, and then their lips – kissing Richard desperately, Richard clawed at Taron’s jawline, rolling over until he was on top of him, he pulled away and Taron pushed up; searching for more. ‘It’s so entertaining to play with you,’ Richard whispered. He moved down, kissing Taron’s neck and then biting hard and sucking. Taron yelped, gripping onto the sheets as Richard made three assaults into his skin, each one as brutal as the last; the skin there whimpering as blood rushed to the surface. Marking him. Taron was _so_ hard; the cotton of Richard’s trousers pressing firmly against his cock as the man straddled him.

Richard grabbed the collar next to him. He shuffled back, allowing Taron to sit up so he could gain better access to his neck. Richard stroked over the curve of Taron’s throat forcing him to shudder.

‘Bet you’d love for me to choke you, wouldn’t you?’

Richard’s hand fell casually around Taron’s neck. Taron focused on breathing but his cock throbbed and his head swam. His stomach felt like it was on a rollercoaster ride. Richard applied the tiniest amount of pressure and Taron whined loudly, forcing back his arousal as best he could. He wanted to be good. He wanted to wait but his body didn’t. Richard smirked, satisfied with Taron’s response. He was reminiscent of a cat that liked to play with mice before ingesting them whole – torturous and without mercy. Richard took his hand away and pressed the fake leather to Taron’s neck and pulled the strap tight, buckling it slowly; letting Taron adjust to the sensation of having his airways tightened.

‘Is that okay, baby?’ Richard asked softly.

Taron could feel the material clawing furiously into skin but it wasn’t too tight, his breaths still came through easily enough – only putting an edge on his lungs.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Want me to tie you up, baby?’ Richard whispered. Richard grabbed the rope, running it through his fingers. Taron stared back at him, absently reaching out to run his fingertips down the man’s side. Richard let him; barely even blinking and it was only from how his breathing waivered that Taron knew he was in as deep as he was.

‘Yes, sir. _Please_.’

Richard leant forward, ruthlessly leaning his whole body over Taron’s face with little regard for him at all. ‘Hands up, darling.’

Taron stretched his arms up and felt the rope loop around his left wrist. Richard weaved the rope through the slats on the headboard and back around his other wrist. He shuffled back, resting lightly over Taron’s neck. Taron tested out the rope. Richard had left some wriggle room and Taron couldn’t determine if that was actually a positive thing. Richard dropped the rope suddenly. Taron let out a large puff of air he didn’t realise he had been holding in. Richard stretched to the bedside table, producing a pair of scissors. Taron furrowed his eyebrows but decided not to ask questions right now. Richard cut through the rope quickly and placed the scissors back on the desk. He took the rest of the rope in his hands.

‘Spread your legs for me, as far as you can.’ Richard shuffled back, repeating the same motions with his feet until Taron was suitable mounted to the bed – exposed and helpless. ‘You look so hot like this, baby. All open for me.’ Richard’s accent was so thick and rich as he spoke. Taron whimpered quietly. Richard settled between Taron’s thighs. He dragged his fingers across them lightly. Taron bit into his bottom lip. Richard licked the inside of Taron’s right thigh and kissed it, trailing his lips up until his chin nudged against his balls. Taron wrist fought at the rope as he tried to squirm. Richard looked up at him, opening his mouth and then slowly breathing over the head of his cock. Taron was sure he was going to go down and he moaned loudly at the prospect. But then, Richard pulled away and shuffled off the bed; leaving Taron to whine at the empty promise of a blowjob. Taron’s whole body spasmed and this time, he couldn’t stop himself. The orgasm ripped through him and his heart raced as he came all over himself.

‘Fuck,’ Taron gasped. Richard sported a bemused smirk, his hands on his hips.

‘I don’t remember giving you permission,’ Richard bit.

‘I know. I’m sorry – that was just too. Fuck. You can’t just – fuck,’ Taron babbled.

Richard’s smile faltered. ‘Give me a colour?’ he said shyly.

‘Green,’ Taron groaned. He was sticky and embarrassed. But completely where he wanted to be; at Richard’s mercy.

Richard nodded and started to unbutton his trousers. ‘Guess you’ll just have to deal with the consequences.’ Taron was still breathing fast. He whined loudly in response. ‘And for the record, you gave yourself to me, so slut, I can do whatever I want.’

Richard pulled his trousers off and then his boxers. He clambered back on to the bed, hard and naked.

Richard recreated his position between Taron's thighs. His lips kissed over Taron's lower tummy and then he grabbed some of the fat between his teeth and Taron could do nothing but moan; he pulled on his restraints, doing nothing but burning his wrists more and more. Richard tongued at the hot load on Taron's stomach, taking it into his mouth and swallowing. Taron tried to calm down, the image of Richard swallowing got him painfully hard again.

'Want me to choke you on my dick, baby?'

'Fuck. Yes please.'

'Beg me,' Richard spat.

He moved up Taron's body, biting roughly into Taron's collarbone. He was going to be so fucking marked. Then Richard pressed his hand against the underside of Taron's chin and pressed his hand back. He kissed the top of Taron's neck with hungry lips and then bit down into the crease between Taron's chin and neck. He'd feel it every time he moved.

'Fuck, sir,' Taron cried out. His thighs buzzed against his permission. 'Please. Please choke me with your cock. I'm your hungry cockslut.'

‘Is that right?’

‘Yes. Fuck,’ Taron cooed.

Richard glowed with victory. He licked at the skin on Taron’s upper neck again and then pulled away. He positioned himself so that his knees were either side of Taron’s neck. Taron didn’t even need to be told; he opened his mouth sinfully and looked up at Richard – ready and waiting. Richard guided his cock into Taron’s mouth. He started slowly, letting Taron’s flick his tongue over the head and experiment with sucking. As soon as Taron felt palpable, Richard suddenly thrusted forward, bringing a hand up to press his head in awkwardly from Taron’s position; the restraints pulled at his flesh and he choked loudly and undignified.

‘Good boy.’ Richard pulled back and Taron took this opportunity to show Richard what he was capable of. Taron sucked and slurped at the man’s cock, feeling his body twitch above him. He dragged himself up and down the length as much as he could; faster and faster. ‘Oh fuck. You really like cock,’ Richard whimpered. More feral groans left his lips. Taron couldn’t hold back the grin that plastered over his face from getting to hear Richard as wrecked as he was. Richard let go of his head, it fell back onto the pillow, only the tip still in his mouth; his neck twinging slightly. Taron groaned raspy. Richard pounded into his mouth slowly, forcing Taron to take the whole length of his cock until Taron choked and this time, Richard ignored it. He thrust into Taron’s mouth, Taron choked and grunted; tears escaping from his eyes and sloppy saliva running down his chin.

‘Your mouth is heaven, baby. I’m going to come,’ Richard moaned. He whipped himself out, jerking himself a few times, coming over Taron’s face. Taron moaned – Richard’s face was red and electric, his eyes screwed up tight as he fucked himself; he looked like original sin itself.

‘You’re beautiful,’ Taron whispered.

Taron loved the feel of a hot load over his face. He groaned as soon it hit his skin; mouth open. It made feel so pretty, like he was being decorated in the most primal way.

‘So are you,’ Richard said softly. He shuffled back between Taron’s thighs, it was a better position. He gently pressed his lips to Taron’s, kissing him delicately. ‘So are you.’

Richard lingered there for a second. They searched into each other’s eyes. Taron felt like he found galaxies within. A deep, uncomfortable feeling rose up in him. He struggled to shuffle. He saw Richard swallow and look away with a grimace. He pretended he didn’t. Richard grabbed the paddle. Neither of them broke the silence punctuated by their breathing. Taron felt Richard tenderly swipe the paddle over the skin on his thigh. Then, without saying anything, he struck him and Taron yelped; his body vibrated. Richard repeated it on the other side. Taron breathed against the tingly pain. It felt so good. Richard hit him again on either side until the tiny heart prints formed on both his thighs. Taron was so close again. His cock throbbed from overstimulation. Richard placed his thumb and forefinger over the head and that was it – Taron came again but it was pathetic this time, only a tiny string of come darting out of him and falling onto his stomach. Taron’s lungs were still struggling to keep up with him as Richard rolled off him and onto his side of the bed.

‘That was insane, baby. Did we just do that?’

‘Yeah,’ was all Taron could manage.

‘Are you okay?’ Richard asked.

‘Never been better,’ Taron smiled. He was worn out. About ready to go to sleep.

‘Let me untie you,’ Richard soothed. He unwound the rope from Taron’s limbs like opening a present and with each release, Taron felt himself fall bitterly into the clutches of sleep.

‘Up,’ Richard said lightly. Taron leant upwards as Richard fiddled with the collar and unbuckled it. Taron felt his skin gasp immediately and felt a little dizzy at the renewed level of oxygen flow. Richard threw all the objects that were only a few minutes ago sacred to them only the floor. He snuggled up to Taron, enveloping him in his arms. He kissed his temple softly, pulling the duvet over both of them. Taron whined softly. He wanted to stay like this forever; soft and dreamy.

‘I’m going to be so fucked this week at work.’

‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Richard hushed. ‘Get some sleep. You clearly need it.’

Taron felt Richard pull him closer as their legs intermingled and their hearts beat together. Sleep snatched him before reality got a chance.

****

When Taron awoke, he felt like _death_. His head screamed and every muscle in his body was sure he’d just ran a marathon that he had neglected to warm up for. Richard had rectified the room and was wearing a shirt and jeans; a blazer was hanging from the back of the chair next to the chest of drawers, tucked into a small table. Taron sat up blearily, trying really hard not to let regret creep into his consciousness. Richard froze and smiled at him.

‘Morning,’ Richard croaked. He had returned back to the man that walked into the strip club and not the man that held him close and made him feel so safe that not even a bomb would scare him.

‘Hey,’ Taron replied with an awkward smile. He felt a rabid pain in his thighs and it took him a second to remember the leather assault on them the night before.

‘How are you feeling?’ Richard asked. He looked down at the phone in his hand, tapping away busily.

‘I’m fine. You?’ Taron swallowed.

‘Yeah, I’m okay. However, I have to leave,’ Richard sighed. It was only the smallest tone in his voice that gave away his genuine disappointment; his expression remaining stoic and neutral.

‘What time is it?’

‘It’s 7am,’ Richard said. ‘Check out isn’t until 2pm. I’m happy to pay for any extras or even your train back to London if you want to stay.’

Taron had completely forgotten Richard was loaded. His stomach twitched with a mixture of arousal and contempt. ‘I’m not a charity case. I can pay my own way,’ Taron scoffed.

‘I know. I just feel bad making you miss your train yesterday… Thought I could make it up to you, if you’d let me?’

‘When do you have to leave?’ Taron puffed.

‘Soon. You’re welcome to get the train back with me.’ Taron was about to speak when Richard’s phone started to ring. Richard glanced to Taron apologetically and put the phone to his ear. ‘Ah, hello Robert… Of course I haven’t forgotten… Well, I can’t say I’m surprised… No, of course I’ll be there. Mayfair, 2pm. But it’s not going to be like last time,’ Richard chuckled. ‘Alright. Yeah, see you then. Bye bye bye.’ Richard hung up, he wiped a hand over his face. ‘Business associate. I have a meeting later with a close contact.’

Taron realised that he must have been staring at him. _This is what it’s like to be you._ ‘Do I have half an hour?’ Taron asked. He stretched, despite the pain.

‘Yeah, I’m sure I could stretch to that,’ Richard smiled.

‘Great. I’ll just get ready and we can leave together?’

‘Sounds perfect.’

Taron smiled at Richard but his face was already back into the screen of his phone. Taron sighed to himself and slogged out of the bed unwillingly. The morning light put such a glare on everything – he never did like waking up before 12.


End file.
